


Beneath the sky was our bed

by eldritcher



Series: Chorale [7]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Falling In Love, M/M, Porn, Romance, Seduction, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:21:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28412304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eldritcher/pseuds/eldritcher
Summary: Finrod didn't exactly mean to demonstrate the art of cocksucking in an eyrie.
Relationships: Finrod Felagund/ Ereinion Gil-Galad
Series: Chorale [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022304
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10
Collections: The Song of Sunset AU





	Beneath the sky was our bed

**Author's Note:**

> Fragments resorted from old drafts into questionable coherence, offered to you as a gift for making it through 2020. Well done :) 
> 
> (porn)

“I have absolutely no intention of going anywhere near that damned eaglet!” I hissed at Turkáno as we sparred.

The morning light glistened on his sweating forehead as he parried my blow and leapt back with a snarl. I pressed my advantage, but he beat me back easily.

As we circled each other, wary and defensive, he began speaking, “If I went, what if I had a panic attack on the cliffs, Findaráto?”

Oh, this was low. I scowled at him. He winked at me. 

"Russandol can go alone. He is unnaturally skilled at wooing feathered nuisances,” I remarked unkindly as I lost ground to his steady attack.

That wretched bird thought I was a rat the last time I had dared pet it! It had nearly lopped off my dainty fingers! However would I find a prostrate without them? 

This was their dastardly scheme. I wanted no part of it. Russandol and Turkáno cooed over this bird of theirs as if it were their firstborn. I had long held that living in seclusion atop mountains had driven them both batty. Turkáno was grinning at me as he flung away his sparring staff and leapt to hug me, neatly flinging us to the grassy ground. 

"And they called you wise!" I exclaimed, shielding his head from the impact with my hands. He clung carefree as a limpet, trusting that I would catch him. 

His merriment, loud and happy and genuine, was the only reason I relented.

"Fine! I shall go!" I ceded. 

* * *

"Well-met, Findaráto! Our errand is noble and our road blessed!" 

"Shut up," I warned Russandol. "I gave up an orgy for you." 

Orgies were pleasant enough on their own; as coping mechanisms to forget Elu, they were remarkably effective. I found myself exhausted to even think of him, well-used as I was after an orgy.

"You are running out of men," he said baldly. "I am merely helping you ration."

If I did not love him, I would have stolen his horse and left him to fend for himself in the wilderness we were headed to. For a few days, until he learned his lesson. Then I would fetch him home. 

"Shall we?" I asked. Our mares were restless. 

"We are waiting for my apprentice." 

"Turkáno agreed to join us?"

Turkáno was afraid of heights. I would not have expected him to join, even if he took a nefarious and obscene interest in this enterprise. 

Findekáno's son joined us then, on a fierce stallion, dressed in leathers and wool, in brown and green, helmed. Broad-shouldered and tall, a true warrior, he cut a mightier, brawnier picture than his father. 

He reminded me of Mablung of Doriath.

Yes, they went on and on about Celeborn's handsomeness. They went on and on about how Laurefindë had the finest cock in Eru's creation. Neither, in my connoisseur's eye, held a candle to Mablung of Doriath. Russandol had _blushed_ when describing him in a hushed and reverent voice. Melian had _stuttered_ whenever Mablung caught her gaze. They were the most unflappable of my acquaintance and they had swooned over Mablung so. I had tried in vain to bed Mablung, only to find myself gently turned down every time. 

Then Elu had taken me to bed, and I had become mundanely monogamous. Despairingly in love, I had worshipped Elu. It had led to doom, as all things did in those times.

"Shall we?" Ereinion asked us. 

How he sat tall and proud in his saddle! 

"After you," Russandol said lightly. "Let us see if you remember the path." 

"I drew a map!" Ereinion replied, eager to please my silly cousin whose sole virtue was an unending supply of apricot jam.

I realized how conniving Russandol was when he neatly skirted about to let me drink in the sight of Ereinion's back. 

* * *

The climb up the hilly paths was arduous. Not because of the terrain, mind you! It was the sight of him bouncing in his saddle that I found arduous. I could not look away. More than once, Russandol had to whistle to my mare to keep her on the path as I turned distracted. 

"Do you miss your orgy now, cousin?" He asked me, when Ereinion was more than a few dozen yards ahead. 

"You are incorrigible," I said with feeling. "His mother must have been of Sindar folk. Findekáno's arse is not as springy."

"Paid attention to Findekáno's arse, have you?" My cousin asked, laughing warmly. 

"It is hard to miss, isn't it? He wears _chaps_ to breakfast. Come now, you are not inured to the sight."

"I try not to look at him so," Russandol said. 

The genuineness in his tone was striking. There was still between Findekáno and him a strange draw. 

I had once feared for them, for the chalice they drunk of recklessly after Angband, harming each other turn after turn with vice and cruelty, and yet holding in each other absolute trust. Russandol had claimed that he had needed their arrangement to hold his mind. Findekáno had said nothing, desperate to have whatever he has allowed, broken and brittle as he had become. I had tried in vain to intervene when I had found Findekáno's cruelty in blood and degradation. Russandol had forbidden me to speak of it. Even now, when they spoke to each other, though only one remembered, there was in their word and touch a knowing. They knew and they stayed clear of their peril of old. 

"Ahoy!" Ereinion called, when he reached the crest. 

"Was he raised on a pirate ship?" I asked Russandol. "How bewildering!"

"You daub your lovers with the jam I toil over," Russandol reminded me. "You have cornered the market on bewildering." 

"What are we here for?" He asked, when we came astride Ereinion. 

"Eaglets require two eyries. This allows the rains and the winds to clean one when it is befouled by carcasses and moult and droppings," Ereinion piped up. 

"Well, we shall be cleaning the eyrie. There is no need to let it rot."

"You shall be cleaning the eyrie," I told Russandol sternly. "My love for you ends if I am called to address bird droppings!"

"Peace, peace!" He said, laughing, merry and glorious under his skies of grey. "Ereinion and you could build the new eyrie. I shall see to the old one."

"I could help," Ereinion offered, solemn and true. 

Russandol shook his head and took off to the other eyrie. The curl of his mouth was knowing and fond when he flashed a grin at me. Oh, the traitorous wretch! 

"Will he be all right?" Ereinion asked me then.

"That damned bird won't slice off his fingers," I promised Ereinion. 

"Well then! Let us see to the building of this eyrie!" 

He came to this silly task with all the seriousness it did not warrant. He measured and cut and arranged twig and leaf and rock. I let him lead, watching him, watching his earnest and careful work.

This orphan, misbegotten and abandoned, had held together a fallen people when the crown had come to him. 

Ereinion was the last and the greatest of our Kings, to hear Artanis and Telpë speak of him. 

He had swiftly endeared himself to us.

Findekáno had wanted no child. I suspected he still had no particular desire angled to offspring. Nevertheless, he had come to love this misbegotten son under the arch of another heaven. 

Fëanáro had taken Ereinion as an apprentice in the forge. My uncle claimed that he had innate talent. Fëanáro had tried to teach us all once, in Tirion. He had chased most of us from his precious forge calling us calamities that needed to be put to pasture. For Fëanáro to tolerate Ereinion in the forge meant that he must genuinely be skilled. Ereinion had begun calling him _Grandfather_ , much to our baffled joy. 

"Should we line the nest?" Ereinion asked. "Lord Maedhros said that the chick likes a bed of moulted feathers." 

Yes, Turkáno had harried me to gather _feathers_ from other birds. I sighed and offered Ereinion my satchel. 

"You came prepared!" He exclaimed, pleased. 

"Why can't they keep the bird at home?" I lamented, though I did not mind standing on a craggy cliff atop a hill watching Ereinion bend and squat and go about his task. 

"Did this interrupt your plans for the day?" Ereinion asked me politely. 

Well, I had had to cancel my orgy. I did not want to tell Ereinion that. He was rather sensitive to debauchery. I found that I wanted to leave a good impression. 

"I had meant to help Turkáno and Artanis with their book," I said instead. "To proofread, you see. I am an excellent proofreader."   
  
He looked suitably impressed. 

I wanted to continue impressing him. I tried to remember the last time I had seduced somebody I truly wanted. 

It had been Elu. 

Oh dear. 

* * *

Once our task was done, I offered to show Ereinion the caves in the hillside. 

"I am rather leery of caves," he remarked. Then he grinned brightly at me and said, "Lead on! I am with Finrod! Whatever could befall me?"

His words stoked the furnace uncomfortably. 

This was disaster, I thought, when he merrily followed me to the caves. 

I wondered if he was watching my arse. Thank goodness for my mother, I thought. If I had not her blood in my veins, my arse would be as flat as Findekáno's! 

"Oh!" 

His gasp of wonder when he entered the caves nearly undid me, as I pictured the places and times in which he could be coaxed to produce that sound again.

This was disaster and I ought to bloody leave Russandol with his bloody eagle in the bloody eyrie. Macalaurë would not mind. For Turkáno, I would have to conceive another revenge.

"Mineral deposits?" He asked me curiously, eyeing the crystalline formations in the manner of one who had willingly spent time with Fëanáro. 

"Stalactites," I told him. "Nargothrond, where I ruled, we had complex and interconnected tunnels where were wondrous ores and minerals sparkling in the earth's dark. Atarinkë and Telpë were fond of prospecting in the caves."

"We need no lantern," Ereinion said, surprised. 

"In caves as these, the minerals light the way." I took him by the hand, relishing in the fierce warmth of his palm. He was quiet as I led him into the caves, until I reached the parts I knew would bedazzle him. 

"Gem lodes!" He exclaimed, exuberantly excited. He wore enthusiasm well and his laugh was a sweet thing that needed to be put to song and harp. 

I let him wander. He chattered away speaking of copper and limestone and serandite. It had become clear to me that I ought to bribe Atarinkë to teach me the rudiments of gemology. 

Then he paused, startled, and when he turned to face me, his pallor alarmed me. 

"What is it?" 

There could be no harm here, I knew. I had explored these caves thoroughly with Macalaurë.

"I have lost my way," Ereinion whispered, still and shaken.

Not everyone took to caves well, I remembered. 

Even among our family, Turkáno or Irissë or Nolofinwë refused to step foot in a cave. Russandol did not mind, but he was claustrophobic and usually left after a few hours. Artanis was not claustrophobic, but caves reminded her of Celeborn and she preferred not to accompany me on these expeditions. Atarinkë, Telpë, and Fëanáro were eager to travel to the caves, but preferred to linger whenever something caught their eye instead of exploring. 

Macalaurë was delightfully devoid of irrational fears and pursuits of the forge; he made an excellent companion on my expedition to the caves. 

The clammy color Ereinion wore told me he was claustrophobic. My wicked thoughts of seduction fled me, replaced by worry.

"I remember the way," I told him kindly. 

He was trembling, going into shock. 

I went to him and embraced him. 

"Listen to me," I told him. "It is only two hours to reach the hillside."

"Two hours!" He whispered, frightened, wrecked. 

Two hours would seem long to the frightened, I realized.

I cursed. I had fallen out of touch with comforting another. I could passably approximate comfort if it was one of my siblings or cousins, but that was because we knew each other well. 

Remembering how the guards of Doriath had often blindfolded guests to bring them inside to the brightly lit halls of the King, I had an idea. I undid my scarf and brought it to his attention. 

"Let me blindfold you. It may ease your discomfort." 

He nodded, unsure and yet determined to not fall apart. This brave child of Findekáno's; whyever had my cousin spurned him? 

I tied the scarf about his eyes. 

"Lord Finrod-"

"I am here," I promised him, taking his hand in mine. 

The drip of water on the cave floor made him startle. 

"Do you mind if I sang?" I asked him gently. 

He shook his head. 

I had not sung for another under these skies. 

The only song I remembered then was one of Macalaurë's that he had been fond of singing at bonfires when we hunted in Tirion together. It was the last song I had sung in battle with Sauron, in Tol Sirion. I had died with Macalaurë's words on my lips. 

  
“Across the sea, there is a land under the starlit skies,  
Between the shore and the high mountains a placid lake lies.  
‘Twas there that it all began, under the eaves of the woods,  
He met a woman and loved her more than his heart could.

O Lands of the East! O Lands beyond the Sea! What secrets do you hold?  
Would you yield your treasures to souls true and bold?  
We yearn for truth, for freedom and for knowledge unbound.  
We yearn for love so pure and true to yield our hearts bound.

Be at a court, or in a war, or in the face of death, or in a bower  
I shall not lose, nor shall I want, for in my blood is fire!  
Be I alone, be I in peril, be I doomed that I can sink no lower  
I shall not fear, nor shall I cry, for I am a child of Finwë!”

  
I continued to sing even if my voice was turning hoarse, and Ereinion clung to me. His fear had settled into acceptance. The tight, clammy grip of his hand on mine had relaxed. 

When we reached the hillside, when we stood under open skies, I turned to my companion. His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, but he stood still and trusting. 

This was my weakness, to be trusted unconditionally by someone powerful and noble. I swallowed. My hands trembled as I undid his blindfold. 

"Thank you," he whispered, sincere. 

He did not let his pride get in the way of his gratitude. How was he of our blood? 

I had loved Elu for this, for his keenness to trust me. I had been no match for his cleverness and strength, but he had yielded himself to me as a wanting thing of beauty I worshipped. He had not clad himself in pride when he lay vulnerable before me. 

"Are you all right?" Ereinion asked me, oblivious to my desirous heart. 

He was waiting, pliant and quiet. He trusted me. 

"I apologize for having not taken notice of your discomfort earlier," I said, offering a distraction. 

He shook his head, watching me carefully. As recognition parted his lips, I surged forward and kissed him, swallowing his exclamation of shock, cupping his nape and pulling him flush to me. The warmth of him was heady. His arms came to hold me, reflexively. The span of them encircled me easily.

"Lord Finrod-"

"Refuse me now, or hold your tongue," I ordered. 

I had gone too far. Why must I cease now? 

"I am rather inexperienced," he began, embarrassed, flushed, hesitant. Not refusal. It was not a refusal. 

I fell to my knees on the rocky ground and pressed my face to the front of his breeches. The protuberance of him was stirring. I swallowed, wanting. 

"Your knees-"

"Bugger my knees!" 

I had to do everything around here. 

Impatiently, I brought my hands to his belt. His fingers, clumsy, helped me along. The thickness of him, veined and _full_ , made me wish I could take him into me. Later, I promised myself. 

For now, I settled for kissing him there wetly and with intent, until he stood hard for me. I looked up at him, grinned at his taut expression of restraint. Oh, I would chip that away to begging. 

When I took him into my mouth, into my throat, with the ease of the well-practiced, he cursed and his hands came flying to my hair to hold and tug. His eyes were fixed on mine, as I worked him up and down, laving him with curling tongue and punishing him with a nip whenever his hands tightened on my scalp. 

"Slower!" He demanded. "I cannot last if you-"

I pulled myself off, regretting the loss of cock in my mouth. I needed to explain to him the how of this. 

"You will last," I ordered him. His eyes were wide and wanting and his hands tightened in my hair further, making me wince. "Do that again and I shall tie your hands." His breath hitched. "Perhaps you want that. Do you?"

His mouth was parted but no words came. 

"Tell me," I commanded. "Tell me, Ereinion."

"Yes, please," he murmured, offering me his hands. 

I took the scarf I had blindfolded him with earlier to lead him safety outside from the caves. It was no knot he could not extricate himself from, more a suggestion than a restraint. Yet, he gulped and stood still for me, arms held in flimsy silk at my command. I had to clutch my cock so as not to spend abominably early. 

Thankfully, I came after him, after he had spilled into my mouth with a curse, his cock convulsing still when he saw how spend trickled down the corners of my mouth. I suckled him clean, laving him tenderly before doing up his breeches. 

"You came in your clothes," he said, remorseful, as he eyed the stain. 

"The next time you will remedy that, won't you?" I asked him.

"The next time?" He murmured, surprised. "Galadriel said that you never repeat an encounter."

My sister was destroying my reputation! And my chances! I scowled.   
  
"You are convenient," I declared. 

"Convenient, am I?" He asked, teasing, as he realized I _wanted_ another encounter. 

"Rather green, but you can be trained," I allowed. 

"You seemed content enough when you were stuffing yourself with cock," he remarked, easygoing and kind and able to hold his own. 

He came to wipe my mouth with the scarf, and oh, however was I to resist kissing him. 

* * *

My cousin found us then. 

"You have terrible timing," I told him, as he joined us with an armful of eagle. 

Ereinion, flustered, would not meet his gaze. Delightful. Oh, the wonders I could teach him!

Russandol rolled his eyes and went to inspect the nest we had built, chattering away to his bird about this and that, nitpicking the weave of the twigs and the softness of the bed. 

"Complain more and I shall leave you here!" 

"Merely suggestions for the next time," he insisted. 

"There shan't be a next time!" 

Ereinion cleared his throat. 

"Oh, well," I said, disgruntled. "Fine. I shall be pleased to accompany Ereinion the next time." Russandol grinned. "You shan't be required on our journey then, cousin. Go shuck oysters for Artanis or cook for Húrin!" 

"Here I was thinking of canning apricot preserves for my favorite cousin." 

I scowled and went to hug him, rather grateful for his meddling despite the sheer intolerableness of his methods. 

Family. One could not do anything but endure family. 

"Watch the stains!" Ereinion exclaimed, horrified, prude that he was. 

"He reeks of bird," I said smartly. "This shall be an improvement."

"I don't mind," Russandol offered. "It could be worse. It could be foot-rot."

I shook my head and kissed his cheek, trying to repair the mess of his hair in vain. The evil bird pecked my fingers then, possessive of its claim. 

"I shall cook you and feed you to Tyelko's hounds!" I threatened, only to be pecked again. 

At least, it was worth the fuss, I thought, as Ereinion fretted and gently tied up my scarf over my bloodied fingers. Then, reckless, he blushed and pressed a soft kiss to my wrist. He cast a wary glance at my cousin, fearful of disapproval. 

"I am terrified of caves," Russandol said, turning away, readying our horses for the journey home. "The claustrophobia undoes me every time I venture into a cave."

Ereinion's eyes were wide. 

"Lord Finrod sung for me," he said, hushed. The gratitude in his voice made me want to weep and keep him safe. 

"I thank you, cousin," Russandol told me then. 

It was not a formal courtesy, I realized. He loved Ereinion so. This was the boy he had named and claimed and crowned, despite the treason it had been then. I was humbled by his trust. This was no half-arsed matchmaking. 

Frightened, I resolved to offer my best. I would have to first learn more of Ereinion.   
  
"What are you doing tomorrow?" I asked Russandol.

"Why? Have you no plans?" 

"None. I shall be cancelling all my plans," I said, and did not even scowl when he laughed merrily.

"Do you not venture into the caves, Lord Maedhros?" Ereinion asked then, greedily curious about my cousin as he always was. "They are beautiful inside. Gem lodes abound!"

"I imagine it is a nervousness of old," Russandol offered. "I cannot remember. I shall be glad to accompany you if you wish to return."

He was remarkably open with Ereinion, despite his usual tendency to hide behind vague words. 

"I cannot ask you to!" Ereinion exclaimed. "Not when I know that it discomfits you." 

"What need I fear when I am with you?"

Ereinion's face was a study in adoration. 

Their dance was a heartwarming one, as they strove to show care without asking for name or claim. Ereinion had been swift to call Fëanáro Grandfather. He did not call Findekáno father. I suppressed a grin. 

"Ereinion, watch the road," I warned him, when his stallion veered too close to the cliffside. 

He immediately obeyed, and then blushed. 

"You marvelous thing!" I exclaimed, overjoyed. "Cousin, stay at Húrin's! You can ride back tomorrow on your own. Avaunt! I shall take Ereinion home." 

"Lord Maedhros, you needn't travel alone!" Ereinion said. 

"Macalaurë leaves him at Húrin's whenever he needs to work on a composition. Húrin is used to keeping him."

"Am I a pet now?" My cousin protested, though the warmth of his gaze was a knowing, affectionate one. 

"A terrible one. It could be worse. You could be an eaglet." 

"Finrod, behave!" Ereinion ordered.

Feisty. He could certainly hold his own. 

"I am merely Finrod now," I lamented. "I was once King. Have you no respect?"

"None," he promised, incandescent in his joy, racing past me, baiting me to chase him. 

My cousin waved to me and turned to Húrin's.

I chased Ereinion, laughing.

We raced over hill and plain, until we came to the river. I caught up with him easily as he navigated the crossing. His booming laugh cut to the quick as I leapt off my mount and grappled with him on the riverbed. 

We dragged each other to the meadow on the banks. Blazing his warmth then, as he held me close and let me worship him in the skin. 

Before him, I was only man, a fool, a heart that wanted. 

I took his mouth, and his mouth was nectar. I touched him everywhere, and my name on his lips was music under occident skies. 

I kissed him, once and twice and a hundred times. Before I could kiss him once more, he turned us about and held me down. Gladly, I gave myself. 

"Sing to me, once more," Ereinion demanded, as we lay replete on fields of clover, by a merry river that burbled by, in this place of no god's make.

I knew only Macalaurë's songs from our hunts in Tirion. 

"In the age of gold, two lovers bright,  
Naked in the day's beams delight.

Then, in rising day, on the grass they play;  
They were afar, strangers came not near.  
They knew love and they made gay,  
They pledged bonds and knew no fear."

  
Beneath the sky was our bed, as I sung to him songs of old.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

>   
> Sunset is maintained at a [Dreamwidth repository](https://the-song-of-sunset.dreamwidth.org). It is a set of stories that can be read as standalone or as a full alternate universe.


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